


Seeing Eye Puppy

by Kryptaria, rayvanfox



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, puppy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 17:44:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4314456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kryptaria/pseuds/Kryptaria, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayvanfox/pseuds/rayvanfox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt's not sure Foggy's "gift" of a seeing eye dog — a tiny, adorable terrier puppy — is a really good idea. Though, to be fair, he's not even sure the gift is for <i>him.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Seeing Eye Puppy

**Author's Note:**

> We wrote this to celebrate finishing the zero draft of our second original novel, tentatively titled Life Is Not Enough.
> 
> Thanks to pangallimaufry for betaing!

“This is a _terrible_ idea!” Karen exclaimed, her voice rising in pitch, though her heart wasn’t racing. _Terrible_ didn’t mean _life threatening_ , apparently. Matt froze just inside the building that housed the law office. He blocked out everything going on in the other suites to better catch what was going on in their own.

“What do you mean, terrible? It’s a brilliant idea!” Foggy scoffed, calm as ever. Good genetics and a habit of walking kept his blood pressure down despite an abominable diet, though his heart rate was surprisingly low. Was the “terrible idea” switching to decaf?

“By whose definition of ‘brilliant’?” Karen countered, sharp as always.

“I have a law degree. I’m _qualified_ to make these decisions. And I’m your boss! Don’t you have filing to do?”

“We have no clients.”

“We have no _new_ clients. We won that employment litigation case. Isn’t there paperwork?” he asked over the sound of... water? Spilling coffee? Matt tipped his head, trying to puzzle out the nuances.

Karen sighed. “Yes, and it just got peed on.”

Yep, there was the smell of urine. What the hell were they doing in there? Matt took the two flights up to the office two steps at a time, then tried to calm his own heart before walking in the front door. “Hey, guys. What’s up?” he asked over the sound of paper towels mopping up the mess, which _wasn’t_ on the floor, but on Karen’s desk.

A moment of silence. No, not silence. There was the sound of... panting. And the smell was all wrong — the urine, the shampoo, the grass. Matt tried not to facepalm as he waited for _someone_ to speak.

“Uh,” Karen finally said. “Hi, Matt.”

“Dude, your timing is _shit_ ,” Foggy added over the rustle of paper towels hitting the wire wastebasket next to Karen’s desk. Matt made a mental note to empty the trash before the whole office could stink.

“Foggy!” Karen whisper-yelled at him. She was good at that.

“Meet our new partner. Nelson, Murdock, and” — Foggy hesitated — “Faximillian.”

Matt pushed his glasses up his forehead to pinch the bridge of his nose. How did he deserve this? “Faximillian? Really? Foggy...” He stepped carefully toward the desk and tried to gauge the size of Foggy’s mistake. “What were you thinking?”

“ _Max_ imillian would be too confusing. Matt, Max. And I _did_ get him for you. It’s only right, naming him after me,” Foggy declared proudly.

“Plus, he was looking at the fax machine,” Karen deadpanned.

“Hey. Inspiration’s thin at this hour of the morning. But hey! Matt, meet Faxxy, your new seeing eye dog!” Paper rustled as Foggy lifted the grassy-smelling dog with ease. What sort of “seeing eye dog” weighed under twenty pounds?

And then the dog was in Matt’s arms, and he was all wiry fur and warm tongue, with short little legs and a tiny whine in his throat. Wait, not _his._ Matt moved his supporting hand beneath the dog’s butt to confirm. Yep, _her._ He pet her head and felt floppy ears — no, just one floppy ear; the other stuck straight up in a neat point. God, did it get any cuter? Small, scruffy and cute as a button. And she was supposed to be a working dog? She’d never get any heavier than twenty or thirty pounds.

“How old is she?”

“She?” Foggy asked, sounding surprised. That meant he hadn’t adopted Faxxy through legitimate channels, or there would be paperwork — including a spaying record.

“She,” Matt said. “Trust me.”

Foggy moved fast — not so fast that Matt couldn’t anticipate, but all the same, he allowed Foggy to smack the hand that was on the puppy’s butt. “Get your hand off her bits!” Foggy ordered, always the knight in vaguely shiny armor when there was a lady involved.

Matt shifted Faxxy’s weight to his other arm, then held up the offending hand in surrender before getting a better grip on her and repeating his earlier question. “How old is she, Foggy?”

“Three months. Easily old enough to hold down a full-time job,” Foggy said, stepping close so he could ruffle her fur. She twisted around in defiance of anatomy and physics, trying to lick both Matt and Foggy at the same time.

“She peed on my desk!” Karen protested.

“It’s her first day! Give her a break. Matt, tell Karen she’s being a hardass.”

“She _peed on my desk!_ ”

“I’m sorry about this, Karen. Foggy, this puppy can’t be a working dog until she’s house-trained, so get on that.” This was Matt’s cue to hand Faxxy back to Foggy, but Matt didn’t move. Her whole back half was wriggling as if the little tail was wagging her, and she’d started gnawing on his finger, which felt oddly pleasant amid the sharp pricks of pain, and... yeah.

“She’s _barely_ a full-sized dog,” Foggy said, clapping a hand on Matt’s shoulder. His other hand was still scratching Faxxy’s back. When he moved down closer to her tail end, one of her back legs started kicking wildly into Matt’s ribs. “How much could she _possibly_ mess?”

“Walking the dog is _not_ the secretary’s job,” Karen said. “And the answer to ‘how much’ is a whole lot. Foggy, let me know when you’ve retyped these wet files so I can save them to the right folder on the server, okay?”

“Me? That’ll take all day! And I’m busy. House-training and all.” Eager as always to avoid clerical work, Foggy got his hands around Faxxy’s little body.

Matt still didn’t let go. “Karen’s right, Foggy. Faxxy can hang out with me until you’re done with the files. _Then_ you can start training her.”

“But she’s _not_ trained,” Foggy said in his reasonable-lawyer tone. He, too, didn’t let go. “What if she gets under your feet and trips you and you crack your head open on the corner of your desk?”

Letting out an exasperated huff of breath, Matt said what Foggy already knew. “I can look after myself.” He nudged Foggy’s hand off Faxxy’s body, adding, “You should be helping Karen. Go on.”

“What if she eats your braille terminal?” Foggy asked, which was ridiculous, and Matt knew he knew it.

Matt just stood there silently, face set, waiting for Foggy to relent. It was like a staring contest but without the eye contact — on both their parts. Matt didn’t need to see to know that Foggy was staring at the puppy, not him.

Had she already stolen his heart? Was it really that easy for anyone other than Matt?

“Or your cane?” Foggy asked, trying and failing to rally his defense. “If she eats that, you’re toast. Trapped at your desk. You could starve.”

“Oh, my God, Foggy,” Karen said, trailing off into a snort that failed to hide her amusement.

Matt didn’t even dignify the desperate attempt with an answer; he just headed to his office with Faxxy in his arms and Foggy trailing after him like... well, like a lost puppy.

 

~~~

 

“Of course she likes corned beef,” Foggy said, offering Matt half of a sandwich wrapped in crinkly wax paper. The smell of mustard was a sharp accompaniment to the warmth of fresh-baked rye bread. “All dogs like corned beef. Besides, she’s from a Jewish neighborhood. She’s probably half-Jewish.”

Matt arched one eyebrow and tried to tamp down his lopsided smile. Foggy hadn’t left Matt’s office all morning until the sandwich run, and neither of them had gotten any work done — not when there was a puppy to monitor at all times.

Karen had given up on them and commandeered Foggy’s desk, but with all their doors open, she was still within earshot. Matt could practically hear her eyeroll at Foggy’s statement from there.

“Karen,” he called, “can you please explain the difference between a breed and an ethnicity to my partner, here?”

She crossed the office smelling of the hot brisket sandwich Foggy had offered her as a bribe. She’d declined the bribe part but accepted the sandwich anyway. “Sure,” she said, walking over to where Matt and Foggy sat on the floor with Faxxy, who was _very_ interested in their sandwiches. “While I do that, you two can clean up my desk. C’mere, Faxxy.”

“Hey, hey! No dog-napping!” Foggy protested as Karen picked up the puppy.

“It’s her turn, Foggy. I need to get work done, anyway. And you have cleaning to do.” Matt got up from the floor and pointed towards Karen’s desk. It was so much easier to play the responsible one when he knew Foggy would never take on that role unless pushed into it.

“But lunch!” Foggy said right on cue as he also got up. Waxed paper rustled as he transferred the rest of their sandwiches from the floor to Matt’s desk. “She’s a growing baby. We have to make sure she eats right.”

“I’ll take care of that,” Karen said cheerfully. “She shouldn’t have mustard, anyway, and you two always put too much mustard on your sandwiches. I’ll share with her.”

“But she’s practically _my_ niece.”

“Foggy. The desk.” Matt turned away, knowing that if he acted as though he’d be obeyed, he generally would be. It wasn’t until Foggy huffed in defeat and headed for Karen’s desk that his words hit Matt. He poked his head around the doorframe and said, “Niece?”

“She’s _totally_ my niece,” Foggy said, turning on his heel and heading right back to Matt, happy for the excuse to procrastinate cleaning for another two minutes. “She looks _exactly_ like me.”

Matt smiled in triumph as he landed the coup de grace: “What? A scruffy-looking nerf herder?”

“Ouch!” Foggy’s shoes shuffled as he staggered dramatically back. “Karen! Gimme that puppy! I need unconditional love, stat!”

“In this firm? Ha!” she shot back before closing the door to Foggy’s office.

Foggy sighed deeply. “Nice going, Matt. Now she’s going to subvert our dog.”

 _Our dog._ The truth will out. The odds of Faxxy becoming a seeing-eye dog just dropped to practically zero. “She’s a better influence than either of us, and you know it. Now _work,_ Nelson.”

“This is discrimination,” Foggy accused.

“Take it to the judge _later._ After you make Karen’s desk workable again.” Matt knew better than to argue logic with Foggy, but Karen hadn’t learned yet.

“How on earth is _this_ discrimination?” she called through the thin wall made mostly of frosted windows.

“Equal rights for a two-stud household!” Foggy yelled back, and Karen burst into howls of laughter.

Trying to stifle what could only be called a giggle, Matt said, “That makes no fucking sense, Foggy. Let the defense rest, already.”

“Just because Faxxy doesn’t have a heteronormative nuclear family doesn’t mean she’s not entitled to proper caregiving from her two male dog-parents.”

This time, Karen laughed so hard that Faxxy started barking.

Matt had to take off his dark glasses to actually facepalm — not because of the ridiculous nature of Foggy’s argument, but because of how adorable it was. He schooled his face into something resembling a smirk, and said, “Our pup clearly has a third, female parent, who is doing a stellar job right now, so show some respect and clean up her god damned desk.” And with that, he closed his door and headed to his own desk.

“Don’t think you won this, Murdock!” Foggy yelled, though he headed for Karen’s desk. “I’m siccing GLAAD on you!”

What _would_ GLAAD think of their little chosen family? Matt wondered. In _his_ mind, they were the poster children for a queer household, but he knew it was wishful thinking. Foggy liked to joke about the two of them being married, but that was all it was — a joke. He opted to not respond to Foggy’s taunts so that hopefully _someone_ could focus on something other than their collective puppy and the puppy-like man in the outer office.

 

~~~

 

Thank God Matt didn’t actually _need_ his cane. He untangled the leash from the cane for the fifth time since entering his building, then stuck his hand in his pocket to get his keys just as Faxxy ran from one side of the hallway to the other, sniffing eagerly. The leash wrapped around Matt’s ankles and knocked the cane out of his hand. When it clattered to the floor, Faxxy attacked it with the most adorably ferocious growl.

“Aren’t you glad I’m here?” Foggy said unhelpfully from where he stood a short two feet away, arms full of grocery bags. “You’d be a wreck without me.”

“Obviously,” Matt deadpanned as he reached down to get the cane away from Faxxy before she tried to chew on it. He turned and held it out for Foggy, and when he got only a frustrated huff in response, he broke the cane down into sections and tucked it into the front of Foggy’s jacket. “Hold that.”

“Oh, sure. Foggy the pack mule,” Foggy groused as Matt got himself sorted out. “Carrying your dog food, your dog biscuits, your squeaky toys, your tennis balls...”

“ _Your_ toys. All I wanted was food for her,” Matt said as he unlocked the door and tugged it open. He couldn’t help but smile slightly as he said, “You did this to yourself, Nelson.”

“You tried to nix the toys because you’re _boring_ , Murdock,” Foggy countered. He pushed into the apartment ahead of Matt and Faxxy, stopping only to hit the light switch with his elbow before he went for the kitchen. “ _B-O-R-_ ing!”

Would Matt ever _not_ be charmed by Foggy’s ridiculousness? The answer was clear, but once in a while Matt held out hope that he could withstand the onslaught. At least he gave good face. He followed Foggy inside and closed the door before uncoupling Faxxy’s leash from her new collar. “I actually believe that _I’m_ more interesting than any of the toys you’ve bought, and if I’m doing my job right, so will she.”

“Oh, yeah?” was all the warning Foggy gave, but Matt didn’t need warning. He heard the faint sound of skin against plastic and felt the shift in air pressure as Foggy tried to pelt him with one of the squeaky toys. It let out a honk like a dying duck when Matt caught it, and Faxxy leaped surprisingly high with a joyful bark.

Matt squeezed it again to make its horrific noise, then dropped it at his feet for Faxxy to attack. “Why squeaky toys? Do you hate me? Are you against the idea of sleep?”

“You never sleep,” Foggy scoffed. “You have beautiful women in your bed, and then you kick them out so you can play avenging angel on the streets all night. You’re like the walking dead.”

The comment about the women stung. It had been a long time since he’d shared his bed with someone else — even Claire didn’t want him anymore. But Foggy would never let go of this idea of Matt on his own, and the longer it wasn’t true, the harder it was to disillusion him. Matt tried to hide his wince and sidestepped the issue once again. “Even superheroes need rest, Foggy. Especially when they have day jobs.”

Foggy started to open cupboards, probably looking for somewhere to stash Faxxy’s food. “Yeah, well. Now you’ve got a daughter to take care of, so keep your hobby of stopping criminals with your face to a minimum, Dad.”

Had all of this been a ploy to keep Matt home at night? The sweetness of the gesture turned sour in his mouth at the obvious manipulation involved. “I thought that was why we were doing the co-parenting thing, Other-Dad.”

“Aha! So I _do_ have equal rights in this relationship,” Foggy said triumphantly over the sound of Faxxy mauling her squeaky toy.

 _Relationship. If only._ “You’re the one who got us into this mess. I’m not letting you shrug off responsibility here.” Matt was secretly pleased to have an excuse for Foggy to be around more. Now that Matt didn’t have to hide his Daredevil identity, Foggy could come over whenever he wanted. “In fact, I should get a set of keys made for you.”

“Yes. Yes, you should,” Foggy agreed sternly. “In fact — Hey. _What_ mess? Faxxy’s not a mess. She’s adorable, like me!”

“I know, Foggy,” Matt sighed.

“Oh.” Foggy paused. “Well, yeah! And don’t you forget it, Murdock.”

_Like I ever could._

 

~~~

 

“I think she’s broken,” Foggy whispered loudly into Matt’s ear, leaning awkwardly over the sleeping, snoring puppy who kept their hips separated by eight inches. Not that that stopped Foggy from leaning heavily against Matt’s shoulder, thanks to a few beers with the Chinese food they’d ordered for dinner. “Is she supposed to be snoring that loudly? That’s way too loud for something so tiny.”

“She’s perfect,” Matt said with a nudge to Foggy’s shoulder. “Don’t act so surprised that our girl would have such a mighty roar.”

Alcohol and happiness combined to turn Foggy’s laugh into a giggle that Matt found irresistible. He hated himself for doing it, but he tried the old arm-on-the-back-of-the-couch thing, just to be able to brush his fingers against Foggy’s shoulder.

And it worked beautifully. Foggy went boneless, sagging against Matt, though he did put a precautionary hand on Faxxy’s body to soothe her when she snorted and huffed. The sound was muffled by the couch cushions that had engulfed her muzzle.

“She’s a blonde, like me,” Foggy whisper-shouted, lips barely an inch from Matt’s ear. “We can give her a lion cut.”

“That’s a terrible idea,” Matt said at once, though his chuckle undercut any sort of authority his words might have held. “As bad as your super long hair was in college.”

With the utter gravity of a near-drunk lawyer, Foggy warned, “Do not mock the locks.”

“It’s better like this,” Matt murmured, risking a hand slap by lightly stroking the shaggy hair behind Foggy’s ear. Instead of giving him a slap, though, Foggy let out a sigh louder than Faxxy’s snoring.

“Of course it is. Mine is a beauty made better only by years.” Foggy lifted his head a bit. “Does that make sense?”

Matt contemplated the statement for a second, his fingers still combing through Foggy’s hair. “If you’re saying you get prettier the older you are, then, yeah.”

Foggy smacked his hand into Matt’s chest. “Ha. What would you know? You’re _blind_ , remember? And your radar only works on girls.”

“Technically, neither of those things—”

“ _Sonar!”_   Foggy burst out loudly enough that Faxxy woke up with a startled snort.

Matt put a steadying hand on Faxxy, brushing Foggy’s wrist in the process. Was that a spike in his heart rate? What for? “Yeah, Foggy. That’s it.”

“Uh huh. _Girl_ -sonar,” Foggy said petulantly, sagging back down against Matt’s body. Their weight made the couch cushions tilt together, half-burying Faxxy. Instead of protesting or jumping back down, she just let her head fall and went back to sleeping. “At least you know our baby-girl here’s pretty.”

“I know that because you said she looks like you.” It was out before Matt caught himself, though the moment he finished speaking he clamped his mouth shut. _Shit._ Maybe he could claim too much beer, even though he’d only had two, and that was a horrible excuse.

Foggy prodded at Matt’s ribs with one finger, but instead of hitting straight-on, he skimmed the curve and ended up with his hand splayed over Matt’s abdomen. “Are you calling me a dog?”

Foggy’s playful voice was softer than usual, and it did things to Matt’s ability to breathe. “No,” he said quietly.

“Then see what I mean?” Foggy asked, patting Matt’s abdomen in lieu of trying for another poke.

“No.” The heat of Foggy’s hand on his stomach had distracted Matt to the point where he wasn’t sure what they were talking about anymore. “You’re both pretty.”

“Oh.” Foggy shifted to get more comfortable, pressing as close to Matt as he could get without putting Faxxy at risk. Then he blurted, “Hey! Yes. Yes, we are. Ha!”

Matt shook his head. Nothing like a drunk Foggy Bear to keep things amusing. Slow, but still amusing. “Your hair is softer than hers, though.” Matt couldn’t stop touching it — so fluffy and silky at once.

“Well, _duh_. I’m not a terrier. You should’ve seen her mom. She looked like one of those scrubby things you use to clean burnt-on crap out of a frying pan.”

“Steel wool?” Matt frowned at the idea of a ball of steel wool with legs, a tail, and a sharp bark. Then he laughed. His pinky finger caught a snag in Foggy’s hair and accidentally tugged. “Sorry. Can I braid it?”

“Do something _interesting_ ,” Foggy said, pulling away from Matt, leaving him cold. Worse, Foggy picked up Faxxy, denying Matt of even her warmth — but then he twisted around and sprawled face-down across the couch, head and chest resting on Matt’s lap, with Faxxy half-dangling over the edge.

“Jesus, Foggy. Watch the baby,” Matt said as he swooped Faxxy up and cuddled her to his chest. He scratched her ears as he contemplated what to do with a lap full of Foggy Nelson. The situation was awkward to say the least, and if Foggy moved at all, it was going to be deeply embarrassing, too. The heat and closeness of Foggy’s body was causing Matt’s lower half to react in interesting ways — _interested_ ways. “And this position doesn’t make things at all easy, pal.”

“I was up all night,” Foggy said against Matt’s leg, the heat of his breath scorching through Matt’s too-thin suit pants. “Gimme a break.”

“Why?” Matt asked as he set Faxxy down on the dip of Foggy’s lower back, then pressed on her rump gently to keep her still. “Isn’t that my jurisdiction?”

Foggy didn’t lift his head. “I was watching our baby! Someone has to make sure she’s okay. Can’t just abandon her on her first night somewhere new. Heartless bastard.”

“Surely even puppies sleep at some point, don’t they?” Matt was preoccupied with the idea that Foggy had gotten Faxxy for him — or himself, it was still unclear — yesterday and kept her company all night. And now he was here, at Matt’s place, and if this went on any longer, he’d be staying over tonight. Maybe Matt could put him to sleep by playing with his hair, and then Foggy wouldn’t be useless tomorrow. He let go of Faxxy and combed the fingers of both hands through Foggy’s hair, even though the angle was nowhere near optimal for this sort of thing. In a quiet voice, he added, “They don’t need watchdogs either, I’d think.”

Foggy huffed against Matt’s leg. “She’s _adorable_ when she’s sleeping,” he mumbled. “I couldn’t _not_ watch. You’ll see. You’ll be... petting her and holding her all night. She’s that cute.”

“We’ll see.” Matt already knew who he’d rather pet and hold all night, but he’d already been given specific parameters for touching, so he carefully parted the back of Foggy’s hair down the middle and gathered half of it in his hands. “Sleep is hard to resist when it comes for me.”

“Yeah, right.” Foggy sighed and shifted again, getting comfortable. Faxxy was already asleep on his back. “You’re always awake and out and getting hurt. I worry about you.”

“I’m right here, Foggy.” Matt wasn’t going to get into an argument about Daredevil stuff tonight. He’d already decided to take a night off for Faxxy’s — and Foggy’s — sake. He finger-combed the mass of hair in his hands, then divided it into three sections. “And my injuries have lessened since I got the suit.”

“The suit I haven’t seen,” Foggy complained, though it came out more like a rumbling, contented growl against Matt’s leg. “And you’re not going anywhere, because we’re sleeping, and we’re adorable, and it’d be illegal to wake us up.”

Matt smiled at Foggy’s excellent logic. “True. Not that I could get up if I wanted to,” he teased as he quickly braided the short pigtail in his hands. “Which is too bad because I need a rubber band.”

“Nope.” Matt could hear the smirk in Foggy’s voice. “You’ll just have to hold it, Murdock. Don’t start what you can’t finish because you’ll wake the dog and the bear.”

“But I can’t do the other one if I have to hold this one. Gimme your hand.”

Foggy lifted one hand — the wrong one, naturally — and reached backwards over his own head, flailing around. That made it more difficult for Matt to catch him, though eventually they managed to link up. And then, Foggy refused to let go.

With one hand holding the braid and the other one trapped in Foggy’s grasp, Matt had no recourse but to bring Foggy’s hand to his mouth and nip. In retrospect he realized it was an unnecessary retaliation, but reflexes were a _thing._ He immediately pressed his lips to the spot in apology.

“Jerk,” Foggy muttered, squeezing Matt’s fingers — and _not_ pulling away from the unintentional kiss.

“Reflex,” Matt whispered, his lips still ghosting over Foggy’s skin.

“Ugh, you _bite_ criminals?” Foggy’s fingers twisted, flapping against Matt’s face. “No kissing. Not me, not Faxxy, not Karen, not anybody. Have you even had your shots?”

It shouldn’t have, but the teasing hurt. Matt pulled away and let go of Foggy’s hair, sliding his hand free from Foggy’s grip. “Come _on,_ Foggy. That’s my whole family you just mentioned. And no I don’t _bite_ them, Jesus.”

Foggy grunted skeptically, arm still suspended over his own head, fingers in front of Matt’s face. “You sure?”

He actually wasn’t, because he didn’t always remember the instinctive things he did to get out of people’s grasp, but Foggy couldn’t hear his heartbeat. “Yes. Why?”

“All right, then,” Foggy said, brushing awkwardly at Matt’s face again. “You’re free to kiss, as long as you don’t bite.”

Matt closed his eyes so he wouldn’t end up with a finger in one of them and sighed. “Foggy, cut it out. I don’t know where your hand’s been.”

_“In your mouth!”_

“My teeth barely touched you. Get over it.” Matt took hold of Foggy’s wrist and pushed it away, though he didn’t let go, even when Foggy tried to twist around and grab hold of him.

“I’m fragile! And delicate! A fragile, delicate flower.” Foggy gave up on trying to catch Matt’s hand. “Be nice to me. I’m easily wounded.”

“I’m always nice to you,” Matt said by default, even if he couldn’t quite convince himself it was true. “Now let me braid your hair or get off.”

This time, the giggle sounded more like a crow’s mad cackle. “Do I get to pick which?”

It took Matt a second of deep frowning to get the joke. He chuckled and shifted underneath Foggy’s weight, and before he could realize it was in poor taste, he quipped, “Neither would take very long as it is.”

 _Shit._ Had he just crossed a line? Or... had they done that a while ago? Foggy’s brand of humor was basically seeing how much he could get away with before the other person got angry or gave up, so it was hard to tell. Had he been flirting with Matt in that same way? Matt shook his head to dislodge the idea, but he couldn’t think of anything to say to fix his gaffe.

“Bragging, Murdock?” Foggy challenged, lifting his head, “Put up or shut up.”

Matt’s heart started knocking at his chest. He swallowed before cautiously saying, “The opposite. But if you need proof...”

Foggy hummed thoughtfully. “You’ll wake Faxxy.”

That wasn’t the shutdown Matt had been expecting. He raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Flimsy excuse, Nelson. You chickening out?”

“I do _not_ chicken out. Never. A Nelson never surrenders, except against Grandma. She’s terrifying.”

Rolling his eyes, Matt raised his hips slightly to nudge Foggy into action. “Then put your money where your mouth is, pal.” He didn’t care if this was getting out of hand. He was suddenly desperate to see how far it would go.

Foggy did a very bad half-push-up. Faxxy snorted and staggered on Foggy’s back, then landed on the sofa cushions down by his legs, where she curled up with another heartfelt sigh. “Aw, see what you did?” Foggy asked, turning to face Matt. “You woke the puppy. Never wake the puppy. Fear the puppy’s wrath.”

“I didn’t do that,” Matt said. With a playful tone, he added, “Take some responsibility for your actions, counselor.”

“Wrath, Murdock. Wraaaaaaath,” Foggy said, breathing right into Matt’s face like a vaguely ineffective dragon.

He’d clearly lost the plot. They were probably both too drunk for this anyway. Or not drunk enough. He put a hand on Foggy’s shoulder, and calmly said, “All right. Get off, Foggy.”

Foggy leaned into his hand, moving an inch closer to Matt. “Nope. That’s your job. Don’t make me do all the work here.”

Matt spent too many precious seconds trying to work out the logic of Foggy’s statements instead of recognizing what they meant. When he finally did, he almost lost his nerve. He wanted it too bad to waste the moment, though, even if Foggy was only bluffing. “When have I ever made you do all the work?” he murmured, leaning forward until their noses almost touched.

“Rannow v. NYPD. I carried that whole case,” Foggy said, closing that last half-inch so his nose rested against Matt’s. “You just sat there and looked pretty.”

“Pretty, huh?” Matt could have come up with a compelling argument for why he hadn’t helped out more on that case, but his breath hit Foggy’s lips the moment it left his own, and he just let go and...

Foggy’s mouth was soft and hot and giving, and Matt’s chest shook at the smash of his heart against it. The iron taste of fear in the back of his throat subsided as Foggy parted his lips and gave Matt the hottest, messiest, worst-yet-best kiss of his life. Foggy was off-balance and a little too drunk to keep his focus, and Faxxy was apparently stomping around in a tiny circle, trying to nest between Foggy’s ankles, but Foggy didn’t let up. Not until his unstable position collapsed, dropping him onto Matt’s lap again.

“See?” Foggy asked in a breathless grunt. “Making me do all the work again.”

Breathing way too hard to be sitting still, Matt grinned so much it felt like a grimace. “I’m the one who traveled the longest quarter-inch in history, right there.” He rested a hand on Foggy’s chest, feeling the patter of his racing heart — along with the triumph of not falling flat on his face from calling Foggy’s bluff. “But sit up like a normal person, and I’ll take it from here.”

 

~~~

 

Karen had probably been in the office for half an hour by the time Matt, Foggy, and Faxxy staggered in. Of the three of them, only Faxxy had gotten a good night’s sleep. For a tiny terrier puppy, she took up an incredible amount of real estate across the bottom of the bed, and Foggy took up the rest. He’d spent half the night waking Matt up with kisses and touching and the other half with complaints of “Your turn to take out the puppy.”

At least they’d managed to avoid the we-shouldn’t-have-done-that conversation over coffee and toast and scrabbling to get Faxxy fed and out the door. And Foggy was too much of a gentleman to bring something like that up in Karen’s hearing. Hopefully. Matt wanted to pretend this wasn’t all going to blow up in their faces in a matter of hours — if he was lucky, days. They were mature enough to not let it ruin their working relationship, right? There had to be some sort of advantage to waiting almost ten years into a friendship to do something as stupid as this.

They were barely through the door before Matt was approaching Karen’s desk with a contrite expression. “Sorry, Karen. It was a long night. Puppy parenting is...” He trailed off, realizing he was much better at lying by omission than coming up with things to say. So much for all those years of law school.

“Freaking _awesome!_ ” Foggy finished, coming up next to Matt. He bent down to pick up Faxxy, cooing, “Who’s the most _awesome_ puppy ever? Yes, you are!”

“Hand her over, before you two are even more of a bad influence on her,” Karen said, striving for sternness in her voice, though she failed. “I need to undo your damage, and _you_ need to check your email. Both of you.”

“We have a client?” Foggy asked without relinquishing the puppy.

Karen laughed. “We have a client.”

“Yes!” Foggy shifted Faxxy to one hand so he could punch the air. Then he flung his arm around Matt’s shoulders and hugged him close. “Look at us! Lawyers _and_ dads! We’re the best!”

Matt could practically feel Karen’s smirk, and for her benefit, he pulled a long-suffering face, even as he reveled in Foggy’s touch. An entire night of it hadn’t inured him to the pleasure just yet. He pulled out of Foggy’s grasp sooner than he wanted to and said, “One identity at a time, though. So hand over Faxxy and let’s get to work, partner.”

Foggy sighed and passed Faxxy to Karen, saying, “Okay. You’re Mom until lunch. Then we get a turn again.”

“Sure thing, _Dads_ ,” Karen said a little too cleverly. Did she know? Had she read something in their body language?

She couldn’t hear their heartbeats, but by the temperature of Matt’s cheeks, it was probably obvious. And Foggy had too much of the puppy dog in him to be any good at hiding his emotions. Especially when he was happy. _Shit._ Time for damage control. “Go on, Foggy. I’ll be with you in a second.”

“Right. Lawyering.” Foggy crushed some papers under one hand as he leaned across Karen’s desk. “You be a good girl, pretty baby. Uh, Faxxy. Not you, Karen. Not that you’re not pretty.”

Karen laughed. “I know, Foggy,” she said, and Foggy shuffled off to his office.

“Ah...” Matt had no idea how to start this conversation, now he was in it. “You okay with this?” He gestured vaguely towards Faxxy, as if making Karen play mom was the problem here.

“Mmm. At least he picked a puppy.”

Matt frowned. “Instead of...?”

“Something more dramatic,” she said with a sigh. “Foggy’s not good at subtle. At least he didn’t wait until February.”

 _February?_   Matt was missing something. “To do what? Adopt an animal?” Was it harder to find puppies in the winter or something?

“Oh, my god,” she said with a sigh. “Valentine’s Day, you idiot. The whole office would’ve been full of chocolates and flowers, and he’d probably get the ones I’m allergic to.”

What did Valentine’s Day have to do with seeing eye puppies? It wasn’t like Foggy had... Of course he had. Faxxy was a present for Matt — a grand gesture — and possibly a reason to keep Matt home at night. He felt like facepalming again. “Right,” he muttered as his face flushed hot. “Well, I’m sorry if you end up dealing with the fallout. I don’t know if it’ll work, and...” Matt didn’t get into specifics because he wasn’t ready to admit he wasn’t talking about adopting Faxxy.

“Oh, Matt. You’re _both_ idiots. Go in there and get to work already. You’ve been married since before I met you, and other than that one time... it’s worked out just fine. Now shoo. I need my quality time with Faxxy.”

Sufficiently chastened, Matt bowed his head, but not far enough, he suspected, to hide his tiny, satisfied smile. Maybe this would be okay, after all. Matt had always trusted Karen’s judgment, almost as much as his own. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Karen.”

He rested his hand on the edge of her desk for a second, then headed into Foggy’s office. Business as usual, it seemed. To be fair, not a whole lot had changed. One more thing was out in the open, which meant Matt could breathe easier, and their little family had grown by one member. And surely neither of those changes would mark the end of the world. They were grownups, after all.

Sort of. Matt could hear the rhythmic slap of a baseball against Foggy’s palm, which meant he was playing catch with himself instead of getting work done. The last thing Matt wanted to know was whether Foggy had listened in on his conversation with Karen, however, so he simply said, “All right, Foggy. Read me the client email. Let’s hear what we’re in for.”


End file.
